I could hear people up front speaking low Italian, someone praising the flower arrangements, someone discussing the wine list for the reception. I even spotted a few Hollywood stars in the pews. These people, in this cathedral where I couldn't afford a single floor tile, were attending my man's wedding to another woman.
My man. I was still calling him that.
Damn it.
The altar stood at the front of the church. Under the white flower arch, Enzo emerged from the side door.
He'd changed clothes. Not what he wore this morning. His white tie gleamed under the lights. He stood before the altar, back straight, expression calm as always.
One last thread of hope remained in my heart. Maybe he was just a guest. This wasn't his wedding. Maybe he'd call it off at the last second.
Then Valentina appeared.
She walked on a middle-aged man's arm, wearing a floor-length white wedding dress, lace and silk cascading in layers. Her blonde hair swept into an elaborate updo, white veil falling from crown to shoulders. Her profile perfect, proud, born to appear in a scene like this.
Enzo reached out his hand. Took Valentina's hand.
My nails dug into my palms. The pain forced me to face this scene more clearly.
I watched Enzo guide Valentina to stand beside him. He lifted his hand to adjust her veil. People around them cheered, saying how loving they looked together.
This hand that touched my belly last night feeling for kicks was now arranging another woman's veil. How absurd.
I bit the inside of my lip. The taste of rust spread through my mouth.
The priest began reading the vows. Enzo quickly said, "I do." His voice echoed under the dome. Blood rushed to my head. Tears blurred my vision. This was like the most terrible nightmare.
God, why wasn't I waking up?
I stared hard at those two figures standing side by side. Even as the pain from my chest made me barely able to stand, I still masochistically took in every detail of this wedding.
The priest handed Enzo a velvet box. I watched him open it and take out a ring—the ring I'd personally put back in his pocket.
The ring I thought was for me. Symbolizing eternal love.
An indescribable sense of absurdity drowned me. My stomach felt like someone had punched it, pain making my whole body shake, barely able to breathe. I'd been ridiculous enough to think it belonged to me. Apparently, even God couldn't stand my delusion, so now He was making me watch Enzo hold Valentina's left hand and slowly slide that diamond ring onto her finger.
All the blood in my body went cold. Starting from the top of my head, down to my feet, to my fingertips, into the cracks of my bones.
I thought I'd found the happiness I'd been waiting for. But now I looked down—nothing beneath my feet.
I'd been a joke all along. I thought I'd finally found that real love I'd craved my whole life. But actually, I'd only gotten a farce and a lie.
Now it was over. I took a deep breath, decided to leave. That's when Enzo's head turned slightly.
Across more than a hundred guests' heads, across the entire length of the cathedral, his gaze found me precisely.
Enzo
I saw Chloe.
Across more than a hundred heads, I locked onto her instantly. Chloe Bennett stood in the corner of the last row, wearing a dark coat, hair loose around her shoulders, face pale as death. With my exceptional vision, I caught every detail.
One hand covered her swollen belly, her body slowly shrinking back, like she wanted to erase herself from this space.
But her eyes fixed on me, filled with unmistakable emotion—disappointment.
My heart was doing something it hadn't done in a long time. It pounded violently, irregularly, each beat bringing sharp pain. Why was Chloe here? Who brought her? How much had she seen?
